The Supremacy of the Suit
by Grayswandir
Summary: Training opportunities arise for the newest agents at Torchwood. Gwen and Ianto are sent across the pond to train with the boys at MiB headquarters. Will they survive? Gwen!bashing, slightly!Cracked
1. Training Prospectus

Title: The Supremacy of the Suit  
Author: Grayswandir  
Fandom: Torchwood, MIB  
Disclaimer: Torchwood is the brainchild of Russell T. Davies, MIB is owned by Columbia and Sony.  
Author's Note: This is set in series/season 2 of TW, after MIIB/MIB2.

~ TW ~ MIB ~

"Alright boys and girls, happy news today!" Jack Harkness opened the staff meeting with his usual excessive aplomb. "Our sister agency contacted me yesterday and they are quite happy to host a two week training session for our newest field agents starting Monday. Now, Ianto, I know you were already sent for training with them for administration and archival duties but as a gesture of courtesy you are going for a field update. As for you Gwen, this training is long overdue."

"What? You can't be serious!" Gwen protested. "I'm perfectly well trained. I ran the team while you were away, Jack. I know what I'm doing." Coughs filled the air.

"The signpost last week." Tosh put in.

"It moved! I swear!" A red flush crept up Gwen's neck. It had moved, but it was a council worker shifting it into position.

"The asphyxiated teen." Owen grumbled.

"No one mentioned that mixing Retcon with ginseng tea would be disastrous!" A pasty white hue took over Gwen's features as she remembered the horror of that moment. Luckily the teen had only ingested a sip and Owen was able to save him.

"The Tarafaxian morpher." Ianto deadpanned.

"Honestly, Ianto! Was it really that bad running around as a hare?" Gwen found little reason for Ianto's ire. He was cute as a bouncy, albeit purple, hare. Worse events had occurred that directly involved Ianto, most at Jack's hands. Or Owen's pranks.

"I think the issue was the fact that upon reversion he was green with orange polka dots and bare arse naked as you messed with the controls even more." Owen offered.

"And on that lovely note," Jack interrupted before Gwen could offer up another excuse, "the training is mandatory. Not up for discussion. End of."

Gwen huffed as she flopped back into her seat.

"The loss of dignity I could deal with. No change there." Ianto muttered. "It was the loss of the suit."

Jack chuckled. "The green and orange was a good look, red would have been better." Ianto glared at his lover. "Now, your flight leaves Saturday. Pack lightly, they have a uniform policy."

"Flight?" Gwen asked. "Where exactly is this 'sister agency' located?"

"Manhattan." A blank look coerced a more precise answer from Jack. "New York City, New York. USA."

Gwen began spluttering at the expanded location name. "What am I supposed to tell Rhys? I have a fiancé, Jack. I can't just leave without telling him something. And why the States? There is nothing they can possibly teach me. Yanks know less about aliens than I do!" Gwen faltered as she saw the fiery rage lighting Jack's eyes.

Ianto smiled that 'my god how simple are you' smile and answered in Jack's stead. "Training, mandatory, two weeks. Should cover."

Jack beamed at the brilliant reply. "Now, other business. Tosh, what are the current projections for Rift activity calling for?"

~ TW ~ MIB ~

Jack and Owen stood next to the SUV after offloading Gwen's suitcases. Ianto handled his own single case and attaché.

"Gwen, when you arrive at JFK, follow Ianto's lead. He has all the information on who and what." Jack grinned.

Gwen glowered and remained silent as she entered the terminal, following Ianto's lead. The awkward bags teetered about as they were tugged behind her.

"Think we should have told her what the uniform policy is?" Owen asked, amused at the ridiculous scene.

"I asked Ianto to take plenty of pictures." Jack laughed as he crawled back into the driver's seat. Speaking into the comms, Jack asked his still Cardiff bound team. "So, no alerts, no one to babysit. Up for a pub quiz?"

~ TW ~ MIB ~

Ianto snapped several pictures as Gwen was pulled away from the Customs line at John F. Kennedy International Airport. He stood a few people back in the adjacent line, his passport, IDL and carry permit at the ready. He tried not to laugh as he heard Gwen's screams.

"I'm a British citizen! I'm Torchwood! You can't treat me like this! Let me go, you oafish moron!" The excitement of the screeching woman had pulled all the departing passengers from their respective queues.

Stepping smoothly into a vacated line, Ianto smiled beatifically. "Hello! Quite the bit of excitement."

The Customs agent smiled back at the young man. "How long are you staying with us?"

"Two weeks. Sixteen days on the out."

The agent looked and typed, inspecting the identifications. "And is this trip business or pleasure?"

Ianto let loose one of his secret smiles. "Business primarily. But I intend to sneak some pleasure."

"Any declarations?"

Ianto silently opened his attaché, revealing his favored side arms with the appropriate forms to allow passage along with his PDA. A security officer checked and cleared the items.

The agent smiled, stamping the passport in approval. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome to the United States, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you." Ianto walked over to the Peet's Coffee kiosk. _I'll release the terrorist alert tag after my pick-me-up._

Gwen was oddly passive on the journey to, and check-in at, the hotel facility. Ianto was thankful for the assuredly minute reprieve.

~ TW ~ MIB ~

_The following morning_

Ianto smiled as Gwen groused about the treatment these "Yankee hooligans" had lobbed at her. "The nerve of them to think ME a terrorist! I'm an ex-PC! There's no-way I could possibly be a terrorist." Her Welsh accent thickened as she raged on. "Oohh! This place is a nightmare as well! The room had no bath. After a flight, I want a bath!"

Ianto silently shifted her into the backseat of the non-descript black sedan before joining her. He carefully pulled out his PDA, discreetly transferring the photos of Gwen's morning slip-ups to the Torchwood servers.

"The paper on the mat this morning! It tried to kill me! And that breakfast! How could they possibly call that a buffet!" Gwen lost steam as the car pulled into traffic.

"That's nice, Gwen." Ianto replied, purposely projecting the idea that he was ignoring her.

Scowling at her co-worker, Gwen turned her attentions to the driver. "So, handsome, where are the sights in this locality?"

Ianto swallowed convulsively as Gwen tried to obtain information from the auto-pilot. He wished it were possible for photographic evidence, but resigned himself to an amusing diary entry. _Even Gwen isn't thick enough to miss a camera flash in close quarters._ Happily, the drive from hotel to HQ was shortly complete. The side door opened automatically, allowing Ianto to escape before a chuckle exploded embarrassingly. Taking a deep breath, Ianto smiled at the agents there to greet them.

"My god, do you all dress like that?" Gwen's foot immediately lodged in her mouth. To further add to her utter failure at tact and observation, she added. "And your man behind the wheel, is he new? Didn't seem to be able to answer any of my questions."

Ianto started shaking, a laugh finally escaping nearly launched him to the ground.

Disturbed by her colleague's sudden lack of self-control, Gwen focused on the two men approaching her. One was older, 50, 60 maybe, Caucasian, roughly Ianto's height. The other was slightly taller, younger, mid-thirties at best, and black. Both wore the black over white plain suit and sunglasses the driver wore.

TBC

_Next time: MiB POV, what will they think of this situation. R&R to find out more._


	2. Jay v Old Guys

Title: The Supremacy of the Suit  
Author: Grayswandir  
Fandom: Torchwood, MIB

~ TW ~ MIB ~

Chapter 2: Jay v. Old Guys

Jay groaned as he collapsed into the visitor chair of Zed's office. He and Kay had just returned from yet another assignment where Jay ended up caked in alien goop and Kay was squeaky-clean. "Kay, man, we need to change up this routine. I'm tired of being slimed by the alien underbelly every time we visit."

"Sure, chief." Kay sat next to his partner. "Orange looks better on you anyway."

Zed chortled as Jay growled at his partner.

"Kay! Don't mess with me!" Jay groused. "Zaphindin slime lingers in the nostril hairs much longer than any other and always manages to find its way to places of _uncomfortable_ mention." Jay thought about the last time he had encountered the upper-crust aliens who seemed to deal exclusively in the intergalactic trade of goldfinches. Even the smell of the decidedly unkempt aviary could not overwhelm the scent of the entrails. Jay shuddered in remembrance.

"Anything you say, slick. Thought you were tired of the underbelly." Kay dismissed his partner's grumbling, ignoring the lingering glower sent his way. "Zed, read that memo you sent earlier. Have we reinstated relations with our friends across the Atlantic? I had heard they weren't sending agents over anymore."

"Must have read an outdated, incomplete file, old friend." Zed replied. "One stopped sending field agents but not admin or tech specialists shortly after your retirement. Apparently Director Hartman felt it frivolous to carry on, UNIT training suited her approach much more. Daft woman. It's no wonder why the British government has been sticking their collective noses into affairs not of their concern."

Kay snorted. "Is that why there have been continual violations of the secrets act?" Zed nodded in acquiescence. "Joy. And Three?"

"Three holds the same agreement they always have. You missed their fresh meat in retirement." Zed teased the senior agent.

"One? Three? What the hell are you old guys talking about?" Jay was irritated at the conversation that he was unable to follow.

"Torchwood." The two said in unison.

"Huh?" Jay looked back and forth between the two men, waiting for the vagueness to be cleared up. None forthcoming and irritation increasing, he growled. "What's 'Torchwood'?"

"Oh, Zed, how could you?" Kay admonished his commanding officer.

Zed groaned, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Look, Kay, I couldn't risk anything at the time. Down two top field agents, hierarchal changeover in Torchwood. I suppose I could have tried later on, but junior here being so gung-ho and neural-izing agents left and right, I didn't think he would be able to contain himself long enough to survive a day with Jack, let alone a week."

"HEY! Still not answering my question. What. Is. Torchwood?" Jay refrained from tapping his foot in impatience.

"Torchwood is an organization that was created to do much the same things we do, except they've been around a hella lot longer and are only concerned with alien comings and goings in the United Kingdom." Kay recited. "We stay out of their way, we can ask for information, we accept and keep track of the tourists and semi-permanent residents. That's the official relationship we have."

"Seriously fellas, what is Torchwood?" Jay asked, doubting the veracity of Kay's speech. A pregnant pause filled the room. Looking from the commander to his partner, sensing no untruth, Jay decided to humor them both. "Okay, so exactly how long is a 'hella lot'?"

"Torchwood was established in 1879 by Queen Victoria after an encounter with an alien left her un-amused." Zed smirked at the gawping expression on the younger man's face. "Didn't expect that one, did you, tiger?"

Jay shook his head, scrunching up his eyes. "Fine, whatever! What's with the sudden history lesson anyway? And what memo?"

Kay snorted. "The one you always delete the moment it hits your inbox. The one marked 'Training'. Two Torchwood field operatives are on their way here for cross-training. The two of us are in charge of their activities for the duration."

"Ah, come on, Zed, Kay! I thought my days of tugging leashes of green boys was over when Kay returned!" Jay whimpered, slumping in the chair, covering his eyes with his forearm.

"Look at it this way, ace." Kay soothed. "You won't have to be slimed while they're here."

Jay crooked one incredulous eyebrow at the senior agent. Somehow that wasn't reassuring.

~ TW ~ MIB ~

"Awe, c'mon, slick, you have only yourself to blame." Kay chided as the two agents stood outside in front of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority, the unassuming entrance to MiB headquarters. "Reading the memos would keep you in the loop and there are moments of hilarity to be found in them."

"Such as?" Jay grumbled. He had not read the non-personal memo postings since the third week with the agency. Most of the drivel in them were boring, dry and full of useless information that only the customs agents truly needed to know.

"The worms share some very interesting articles on occasion."

"Kay!" Jay turned green. "I don't need to read _anything_ about the sexual habits of aliens that get laid more than a high class hooker!"

"Suit yourself."

An embarrassed silence fell between the two as they waited for the Torchwood operatives to arrive. Jay remained silent, not wanting Kay to reveal any more traumatizing factoids that could only lead him to neural-izing himself. Kay contemplated the idea of Jay meeting Jack and all the ways the youngster could embarrass himself in the older man's presence.

One standard issue black sedan pulled up to the curb, driven by the auto-pilot. The rear passenger door opened of its own accord, releasing a male passenger, early twenties, wearing a nicely tailored suit. He wore the unmistakable expression that he was about to explode from jocularity. The expression disappeared into a polite smile, eyes still shining in humor.

"My god, do you all dress like that?" Both agents homed in on the second passenger of the vehicle. She was older, maybe early thirties, long straight dark brown hair, wearing skinny jeans and a low cut top with a feminine too-small leather jacket. Both agents groaned mentally, albeit for different reasons. "And your man behind the wheel, is he new? Didn't seem to be able to answer any of my questions."

Apparently the young man had had enough. A laugh jerked him forward, nearly bending him in half. _Guess he knows about the auto-pilot, _Jay mused. Jay and Kay moved closer in a synchronous walk.

"Yes, ma'am, we do. The suit is standard issue for all MiB personnel." Kay answered in his standard no-nonsense monotone. "Your driver, in answer to your question, as a programmed automa-droid, his being new is irrelevant. He was never outfitted with a verbal protocol command."

The female gaped, realization dawning on her face. Her male companion had obviously known the truth the entire time. Rounding on him, she screeched. "You knew! The entire time you let me talk to a machine!"

The young man calmed gazed at the female. "You talk to your terminal all the time. Thought you might have preferred a machine with a human visage for a change." Ignoring the ruddy tone her face was turning, he turned his attention to the MiB agents. "Agent Kay, Agent Jay, thank you for meeting us. I'm Ianto Jones, this is Gwen Cooper. We're Torchwood."

TBC


	3. The Last Suit, Err

Title: The Supremacy of the Suit  
Author: Grayswandir  
Fandom: Torchwood, MIB

A/N: For those unable to read the warning (on prominent display in the summary), this fic will contain **Gwen!bashing**. I do not support her as a team member. She is very much stuck in her little universe of everything is black and white. Sorry, she is dumb to some extent in all my interpretations. (This message is meant for a specific reviewer, but as the person has blocked PMs, I could not send it out to them specifically.) Now back to the semi-regularly scheduled program.

~ TW MIB ~

Gwen was furious at her coworker. _How dare he not share intel!_ "Ianto, how do you know who these people are?"

Ianto, recovered from his spat of humor, rounded on his Welsh friend to respond. "I know everything."

Jay laughed. _This kid is going to give Kay a run for his money._ "Yeah, I know this trick. What's the real truth?"

A slight smirk lit across the young man's face as he turned on the darker agent. "I do know everything." Walking past both of the MiB staff members, he added. "I'm also the archivist. I know how to look up the facts."

"I hate it when he does that!" Gwen growled. Turning to face the two agents, she plastered on her wide doe eyes and gap-toothed smile. "At least with both of you around, he won't be able to pull that stunt, yeah?"

Kay shrugged, following the young Welshman to the front door.

Jay smiled, tucking away his sunglasses. "Unfortunately, Kay can be just as bad." Seeing the other half of the party disappear behind the double door entrance, he gestured outward. "Shall we?"

Gwen huffed as she tagged along aside Jay, following in the wake of the other two. "Don't understand why I'm here. I've been in Torchwood for nearly a year, even been in command."

Jay quietly rolled his eyes as he pulled the door open. _Doubt you were in charge. Command, sure. In charge? No._ Jay was pleasantly surprised to see the other two were still waiting inside the entry hallway. Kay standing by the elevator doors, the kid stood near the seated guard, apparently carrying on a conversation from a past encounter.

"You still drink hazelnut with a pinch of cinnamon?" Ianto asked, wrapping up his conversation.

The guard moaned, almost obscenely. "That would be heavenly."

Gwen frowned at Ianto, disapprovingly. "Why would you remember that information, Ianto? It's not like he's important." All four males winced minutely at the crass statement.

Ianto turned his own blank face away from his foot-in-mouth associate and tweaked a polite smile the guard's way. "It would be my pleasure." Joining the senior agent at the elevator doors, Ianto took a deep breath in irritation. "So. What's first on the agenda?"

Kay smirked internally as the two others joined them in the elevator. "Let's put it on." He said in his normal deadpan rhythm.

"Put what on?" Gwen chirped happily.

"The last suit you're…" Jay groaned as he saw the quiet smirks on the other males' faces. "The uniform you'll wear while here." He amended, painfully aware of the mischievous eyes glued to him.

~ TW MIB ~

Gwen frowned as she saw the clothing in the locker before her. It was a dull black and white suit that flashed her back to the uniform she wore as a constable. "I'm not wearing that! No chance."

Kay's face morphed into a blank mask of no-nonsense. "While you are here at MiB, you will comply with MiB sanctions. You will eat where we tell you, dress as we tell you, and do as we tell you. You would also live where we tell you, however, as you are Torchwood, we cannot enforce that guideline."

"There are worse outfits to wear." Ianto interceded as he exited from the dressing chamber, his own suit hanging neatly from the hanger. Silently, he bemoaned the loss of color in his wardrobe. _Two weeks. Just two weeks, and I'll be back to the sexual harassment and random snoggings._

"Easy for you to say, Ianto." Gwen scoffed. "You choose to wear a suit every day to work. It's part of your identity."

"Hasn't always been." Ianto ground out tersely before heading off to the next room, Jay following behind.

Kay stood, irritated with the woman after a bare five minutes with her. "We operate entirely in secret. Anonymity is our name. You will wear the uniform or you will be returned to your boss without training. Unless I'm mistaken, this training is mandatory." A sardonic brow raise followed.

"Fine." Gwen growled, roughly tugging the uniform from the locker before her.

~ TW MIB ~

Ianto valiantly refrained from laughing as Gwen fidgeted incessantly while they both filled out the written test form. Kay had forced her to pull her flyaway hair up into a professionally tight bun to fit with the quaffed persona that MiB agents exuded. The suit fit properly on her, not snug or tight, nor loose. The row she began, complaining about the loss of her sexual appeal, had been abruptly halted when Jay announced the exam room was ready.

Thankfully, the exam room was different from the one Ianto had the mixed pleasure of visiting on his last round in the States. The chairs were the same egg shaped white but there were bar height tables available to the side, cleverly concealed behind fake shrubbery. Lazily filling out the front page of the exceedingly floppy A3 size exam packet, Ianto watched as Gwen cursed, perforating the paper with her pencil tip. Looking to the biro safely sitting in his own hand, Ianto smirked. _Always at the ready._

Finished with the front page, Ianto spied his neighbor's position on the page before fluidly rising to avail himself of the hidden hard surface. Safely hidden away, he opened his packet and swiftly filled in the blanks making it to the third page before a resounding rip filled the air followed by an indignant cry from the Welshwoman. Unable to stop himself, Ianto crumpled halfway to the floor before straightening. _Maybe two weeks of wearing the funeral attire will be worth it._

~ TW MIB ~

Jay, Kay and Ianto stood outside the exam room, watching as Gwen worked on destroying a third test packet. Jay blanched as he watched her tear apart the packet before moving to the next seat. "And you let her carry a gun?"

"Of course." Ianto replied in nonchalance. Both agents turned incredulous looks on the Welshman. A quiet smirk lit his face. "Loaded with blanks. She has yet to tell the difference between a .22, .38, and a .453."

TBC


End file.
